


Grandmaster Tony

by Magnolia_in_black_Velvet



Series: Ficlets inspired by art [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NSFW, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia_in_black_Velvet/pseuds/Magnolia_in_black_Velvet
Summary: There had to be a line as to how much Loki's day could go to shit.This morning he'd woken up king of Asgard. Now he was standing in front of the Grandmaster of Sakaar, trying to keep him from sending him to fight in the arena.Except that it isn't the Grandmaster he knows, and the bigger challenge may be keeping Tony Stark from realizing just how much he enjoys himself, on his knees and being manhandled into giving a blowjob to a mortal.





	Grandmaster Tony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Horns of Mischief (Rinelin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinelin/gifts).



> So, this is part of my Ficlets inspired by Art series ... this one was inspired by [this Art](http://horns-of-sin.tumblr.com/post/168648968818/come-play-with-me-baby-this-is-what-happens) on tumblr as well as [this prompt](http://frostironkink.tumblr.com/post/167671969564/prompt-tony-is-the-grandmaster-that-loki-has-to) from the frostironkinkmeme.
> 
> Also, if you want, you can find more of my works on [my tumblr](https://hot-hotter-god-of-fire.tumblr.com).

There  _had_ to be a line as to how much his day could go to shit. 

This morning he’d woken up still (pretending to be) the king of Asgard. He'd had servants bringing him choice meat and grapes and hot mead and he'd had as much pillows as he'd ever wanted and a golden throne and actors acting out a ...  _slightly tweaked_ version of recent events. 

Of course said events and the fact that he had needed to tweak them should have told him that, yes, things are never bad enough that they can’t also get worse.

So here he stood, after his brother had unmasked him in front of what felt like  _all of Asgard_ , he'd had an unpleasant run-in with a sorcerer on Midgard (when had he become so complacent that a  _child_ like  _Strange_ could get him?) and after his father had pretended to love him one last time before he died (ha,  _that_ was a good one; he might even have believed it if not for all the shit Odin had pulled before) his long-lost never-known adoptive sister had turned up and instead of getting to be relieved that there was at least  _one_ person with a sense for fashion and drama in the whole family and celebrate it with her he'd had to fight her to keep his dumb ass from a brother safe and then got kicked out of the bifrøst for his trouble, only to land on this trash heap, with his magic running low, his legs shivering from exhaustion and no way to escape.

Oh, yeah. That thing about it always getting  _worse_ ?

Staring at the man he'd been brought to see after he'd offered his experience in  _not-being-a-fighter_ and  _not-being-food_ he couldn't help but say: "You are mortal. What is a bloody  _mortal_ doing here?" 

In his defense - it  _had_ been a long day.

Tony Stark - because  _of course_ it had to be the most conceited and self-complacent one of the whole group - grinned at him from the couch he lazed on. He looked ... different than the last time Loki had seen him. A little older, with his hair graying at the temples. His eyes were lighter, more amber than the chocolate he remembered. His clothing, too - he had once seen the Grandmaster of Sakaar and this was more his style, for all that Stark wore it like it had been made for him.

And there was an energy to him that he hadn't ever seen before. Even at their victory party Stark had seemed ... hunted.  _Drained_ . This here was more the man he remembered from the video footages Barton had found for him on the internet, the ones were Stark had been a decade younger and wore a lot less while throwing parties that seemed to involve a lot of alcohol and stripping and sex.

But it wasn't only that. There was a kind of power in him that spoke to Loki's magic and while he sat there, alone on a couch that could have seated half a dozen, with Sakaar's Who's Who standing around and waiting to be acknowledged and maybe even invited to sit down with him (Loki knew the type; he'd had to  _deal_ with the type for four years), he still seemed to tower over them all, seemed to take up more room than his physical form alone could explain.

It was this that made him take careful notice of his answer when Stark finally deigned to give him one, a lazy smirk playing around his lips.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too, until uncle En turned up. Looks like my mother wasn't exactly human either and he really didn't like that his nephew was living on a backwater planet like earth." Stark rolled his eyes and Loki recalled that he had been more than willing to lay his life down for this  _backwater planet_ . "To be honest I just think uncle En just wanted to go on a holiday and not come back to find the whole place in upheaval. Joke's on him because really, all this technology and he's living in the middle of a trash dump?"

Well, he certainly was still talking as much as Loki remembered.

"So you are the new Grandmaster now?" Couldn't hurt to check in.

Or maybe it could. Slowly Stark started to smile and Loki was pretty sure it wasn't his imagination that the guests around them shuffled back as much as they could without making it obvious that they were trying to get out of the blast zone.

"Oh, yeah. That. Brunhilde told me you don't want to be prey.  _And_ you don't want to be a fighter." That smile started to look outright wicked. At any other time Loki might fully approve; as it was he would have rather been the one who held all the cards. "I have seen you fight, Lolo. Tell me again why I should leave my best horse in the stable?"

Loki - swallowed. When he'd made the offer he'd bunked on the fact that no-one here knew him (he'd never visited Sakaar as  _prince_ Loki  after all) and that his face and ass and tongue (pun intended) would get him out of the fighting business. 

He'd never thought someone might know him here.

Still. Stark was a good-looking man and no matter what else he was now Loki was fairly sure he could get what he wanted if he only got a chance to proove how much more …  _useful_ he could be in other ways.

Smiling winningly and quite obviously fake - Stark was intelligent, Loki remembered; no sense trying to bluff his way here - he offered: "Well, you've seen me fight and think I'm awesome. Now imagine how good I am in a discipline I actually  _did_ master." And just to drive the meaning home he slowly, deliberately, dragged his eyes over the man's body as if it wasn't already burned in his memory. 

If not for the fact that the man was a mortal and therefore far too low in standing he would definitely have taken him before.

Of course, circumstances changed. And if he truly wasn't a mortal anymore ...

"I wouldn't say  _awesome_ \- we beat you, didn't we?"

Oh, so he was playing hard to get. But Loki was an old hand at this game and he saw the spark in his eyes.

Holding his eyes he stepped forward, every move carefully choreographed to emphasize the roll of his hips. By the way Stark's eyes darkened and how he, so very very deliberately, opened his legs to let him step between them, they were on the same page.

It only took a thought to let the shackles fall down behind him and when the guards gripped their weapons to subdue him it was Stark's own hand that held them back.

Oh,  _yes_ . On the same page indeed.

Rewarding this display of strength in Loki's favor he used another spark of his remaining magic to transform his armor to better fit the room, the situation. Less leather, more skin to gaze at. Tightening the leather over his crotch to show what he brought to the trade. A small bracelet on his wrist, jingling softly with his every move.

He kept the cape. It was flashy and useless and he loved it.

There were gasps from their audience and he reveled in their obvious adoration. The heat of their gazes that set his own skin on fire. The lonely moan from somewhere back that he intended on getting company very soon.

Turning his charm on he stepped into the triangle formed by Stark's legs, smiling wide, then bowed forward just enough that it seemed intimate when he murmured, loud enough to be heard in the whole room: "Do you like what you see?"

Stark grinned back. "So far, yeah. Though I hope you have something else to offer than magic tricks because I fear I can't let you continue like that, honey."

With that, he pressed a button on some remote and Loki felt his breath falter as something heavy and strange seemed to reach into him and turn his magic into a box of ice. For a moment - a long,  _terrible_ moment - he thought his shape-shift had failed and he'd turned into a jotun in front of all these people.

Realizing that his form was still an aesir's but his magic was inaccessible was ... moderately better.

"I hope you don't mind too much, honey", Stark said, sounding as smug as the smirk on his face looked. "But I really can't risk you attacking some of my guests."

_inaccessible_ didn’t mean  _lost_ . It just meant that he had to gain Stark’s trust to get it back.

And in the meantime he would have to work on not showing how much he loved games which left him at the power of another. Keeping his face blank with the reminder of just how much Stark would use it against him if he knew he tried to keep anyone from realizing that this little display had gone straight to his cock.

Maybe making his armor tighter over his crotch hadn't been his best idea.

Trying to navigate around his hard one he slowly sank to his knees. The irony wasn't lost on him that the last time they spoke, he'd ordered Stark to do that.

_He_ hadn't even needed to be ordered now.

Hoping that his blush wasn't too visible on his cheeks he tried for a sultry smile that Stark returned with another grin.

"You look good on your knees, Lolo."

He ... wouldn't keep this commentary up the whole time, did he?

Though judging by what he knew of the man he just might.

Grinding his teeth internally he let his fingers wander over the clothed thighs in front of him. "I look  _always_ good", he said, hoping it would shut the man up.

No such hope there. "Not smashed into the floor, you don't. Though, honestly, I think you pulled that off better than anyone else I know."

There had to be an off switch somewhere. Or, alternatively, he could direct the conversation somewhere more pleasant. "Are you telling me you would treat me better than your  _big_ green friend?" Coyly he looked up through his eyelashes. 

Stark didn't buy the coy act for a moment - not that it was a problem; he hadn't meant for him to - but he burst out laughing. And then, finally, his hand tangled in Loki's hair, pulling on it lightly. "Don't worry, I look after what is mine", he promised.

Loki smiled, pleased. It shouldn't be hard to convince Stark that he  _very much_ wanted to count Loki among the things that were  _his_ .

Slowly he let his fingers slide further, the fabric smooth enough to make the glide easy. Running his fingertips over Stark’s crotch he enjoyed the sigh that earned him before he set to work on getting to his goal. At least Sakaar's latest fashion included straps to close trousers over the crotch and it didn't take long to open the knot.

"Didn't think your clever fingers were good for anything else but throwing hidden knives."

Loki grinned, truly amused this time. "I told you, combat is not the physical activity I truly mastered. Or did my brother not tell you that they call me  _Magic Fingers_ as well as  _Silver Tongue_ ?"

A light chuckle, though it sounded slightly breathless to the experienced ear. "Don't see you using much magic in the next time, Reindeer Games."

"No?" Loki grinned and let his fingers brush along the long shaft he'd found within the trousers. The stuttering of breath above him only kindled his own arousal and he had to fight to keep from showing it. "And how do you call this then?"

It took Stark a moment to answer and he used this time well. Easing the cock out of its confines - mmh ... nice, just the right length to be swallowed whole, and already half-hard ... - he let just the tips of his fingers play over it, using experience and the man's own shivering and noise to guide him to the spots that made him feel good while still being but a tease.

Stark noticed of course, and the hard grip in his hair almost had Loki gasp out when it came.  _Lust_ raced through him and he bucked, unable to help himself. 

Whatever Stark had meant to say, this display stopped him short. "You like this", he said, surprised.  _Delighted_ . Loki tried to hide his blush - he hadn't wanted to reveal this to the man - but Stark still had a hand in his hair and used it to angle his face so he could get a good look at him.

"You  _really_ do", he breathed. "And here I thought Natasha was just talking when she said you were covering up your submissive tendencies with all this  _Kneel before me, Mortals_ bullshit. But you are really into this."

Loki glared up at him, furious at the man and even more at himself that his words - and his own anger - only made him all the more aroused. "Do you want a blow job or do you want to talk until the day is gone?"

Stark chuckled. "Oh, please, go on. Though I fail to see why nightfall would prevent me from enjoying your skills which, by the way, I still haven't seen much of."

Oh, that's how he wanted to play this? Loki felt his eyes narrow in anger. If he thought insulting Loki would get him what he wanted ... well, it would, but Loki could at least show him that he was playing with fire here.

Working his mouth to make sure he would have moisture enough he took just a moment before he dove forward, licking a stripe of wetness along the cock from head to base. There were gasps coming from their audience and he smirked a moment when he heard Stark, louder than anyone else, before he moved back, slowly, mouthing the skin all the way.

It didn't taste as bad as many other cocks he'd had the displeasure to have his mouth on. Actually, it tasted quite good. 

Moaning a little - just for show, no matter how much his cock complained or how he could feel himself grow warmer with every appreciative noise Stark made - he enveloped the head with his mouth, letting it rest there on his tongue just to feel the weight of it.

Just to feel the way Stark pulled at his hair to get him to move, and to feel the pain of it travel along his spine like a myriad of tiny little sparks that made him gasp and want to fuck something _or get fucked_ right now.

When he finally moved it was partly the tugging but also the need to  _do_ something, be it fucking or rubbing his cock against something or choke on cock. Somehow he managed to get a hand down at his own cock, the pressure feeling so good even if he couldn't concentrate enough to open his trousers. At least not if he wanted to impress Stark. 

It had been a while since he'd swallowed cock - Asgard didn't look too kindly upon men willing to perform this service upon others - but it was the kind of skill you didn't unlearn. Taking it into his mouth and then just keeping on going he knew that it must look like he was practically inhaling the cock.

When he felt it hit the back of his throat he swallowed around it and was rewarded with a groan from Stark that sounded halfway to wrecked. Took it deeper - deep enough to feel hair tickle his nose and inhale the clean smell of someone who actually practiced personal hygiene.

The feeling of being barely able to breath through his nose was intoxicating and he whimpered, felt it travel all through the man who responded with an almost violent shiver. The hand in his hair was moving, opening and closing without thought, and he swallowed again, and again, soaring on the high of the moans and sighs he got in response, of the trembling of the thighs under his free hand.

He only moved back when his vision started to go black. Thrilled in the feeling of that hand holding him down for a moment longer before he let him back off. Thrilled in the rush of oxygen that seemed to fill his entire body with energy and lust.

"You look even better with your lips around my cock", Stark tried to make a quip but his voice was hoarse and he sounded as if he really really needed Loki's lips around his cock again.

Licking his smirking lips in reply Loki just breathed a few more times before he asked: "Wouldn’t you like to make sure of that?", then gave him no chance to answer when he went at it again.

This time he pulled out all the stops, licking his way over the cock to make it wet and slippery enough to allow for proper movement before taking it into his mouth again. To make up for the lapse he let his free hand play with Stark's balls, rolling them, tugging gently. Thumbing over the soft patch of skin right before them. Letting a finger wet with spit slide a digit deep into his ass.

The sounds he got - wrecked moans, cries, sobs - were almost better than the insistent tugging at his hair, or the leg that had been thrown over his back in a - so far failed - attempt to pull him in.

When he finally gave in and got down to business, so to speak, he allowed the man to move him as he wished, holding his mouth open to be penetrated and it was  _glorious_ . His hand fell to the edge of the couch to give him some stability but it didn't matter. He didn't have to think anymore about how best to please the man and could only let himself be used. His other hand was rubbing over his erection, making him moan around the cock stuffing his throat and he could feel Stark's delight at this in the way his groans changed pitch whenever he did.

When Stark came it caught him almost by surprise. Spluttering he tried to swallow the cum, tried to keep breathing, tried to get his hand where he needed it, tried to - and then he came himself, gasping, moaning, feeling helpless as he tried to keep his mouth open, to somehow keep himself steady in the whirlwind of ecstasy that had overtaken his mind.

When he came down he felt confused as he hadn't anymore in a very long time.

Shocked he looked up, unsure how a mortal - or once-mortal - could have made him have one of the most intense orgasms of this decade.  _The_ most intense, probably (it had been a very boring decade).

At least Stark looked a little shocked, too.

Not that this would ever keep him from running his mouth. "If I'd known that's what you're after we could really have come to an arrangement back in my penthouse."

Loki was too exhausted to roll his eyes, especially since he was still trying to gain Stark's favor. Leaning against the thigh at his right for stability he asked: "And? Does that answer why you don't want me to get damaged?"

Stark chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, Lolo. You're going to get damaged alright. Just not in the arena."

And maybe Loki should try to hide the excited shiver running over his body, but he really didn't mind.

After all the shit that had gone down this last decade, living the high life with a rich patron sounded quite nice.


End file.
